Intertwining Broomsticks
by koubatsu
Summary: Falsely submitted for the Triwizard Tournament - everyone against him, the odds against him, and his scar is hurting again. However, Harry got to know one of his fellow champions perhaps just a little too well.
1. Devout

The rain was pounding the windows violently.

The Hogwarts Express had been trekking along for a vast majority of the day. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat comfortably in their compartments discussing events that had taken place over the summer - namely, the Quidditch World Cup and the events that had followed. Namely, the Dark Mark, the mark of Voldemort, appearing in the sky after a muggle family had been tortured and subjected to the Cruciatus Curse in front of the wizards camping just a ways off from the stadium.

"I've got to hand it to the Wizarding World," spoke Ron aimlessly.

"Ever since the day I got the letter, my life has been way more exciting than being stuck at the stupid burrow. Plus, look at all our previous summers. Me and Harry flew to Hogwarts in dad's car in our second year, then Harry blew up his aunt last year… and now, the Dark Mark has appeared again! That's not even to mention what happens during the school years,"

At this remark, Hermione spoke up with an earnest disdain in her tone. "Ron, that's not something to look fondly on. You saw what happened at the Quidditch World Cup! That was far too dangerous… even for us. There's some things you just have to take seriously… like seeing his mark."

Ron scoffed at this time and picked up a custard cream he had purchased from the Trolley Witch who offered an array of snacks at any time throughout the journey to Hogwarts. He threw the snack into his mouth and spoke in a lazy tone, "Yeah, but, all I can remember is the match, Hermione! Krum just knows how to handle a broomstick like no one else. Don't you agree, Harry?"

Harry hadn't been listening in too hard. His mind had been preoccupied with the more pressing matter of what everyone had been alluring to what was going to happen this year at Hogwarts. "Huh…? Oh, yeah, Krum is amazing. It was fun to watch, that's for sure."

Despite the fact he had been rooting for Ireland, he couldn't help but show the utmost of admiration for Viktor Krum's skills on a broomstick. Harry had been fantasizing about it himself - to be flying in a ginormous stadium, full of people chanting his name, screaming at the top of their lungs at the thought him catching the snitch that ended the game and made his team win by a landslide.

This was all but a mere fascination for now. He was only about to begin his 4th year at Hogwarts, so he still had plenty of time to hone his skills in flying and become a cleaner, smarter and stronger player on the field. It was the area of magic he was naturally adept at, and he couldn't be more happier about this. The cherry on top was finding out his father, James Potter, was also a respected and honoured Quidditch player during his time at Hogwarts.

Hermione simply shook her head in disbelief at Ron's disregard for the fact that the most evil dark wizard of all time could be coming back, or perhaps something even unthinkable. "I mean, seriously, Ronald. Will you ever get your head out of the clouds and join the rest of us down here on earth?" The freckled face stretched out to a grin as Ron said, "Maybe one day, Hermione. Till then, I'll be up here appreciating the god of Quidditch that is Viktor."

Harry couldn't help but crack a smirk at the other's response to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small smile purse Hermione's lips behind her hands now covering her mouth.

"We should be arriving soon, I think. Let's get changed into our robes so we're ready once the Hogwarts Express pulls up. I think we'll be there soon," recommended Hermione. The two boys nodded in agreement and they all changed.

—

As the trio arrived back at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, their very first night was one they would recall excitedly for the following month and just over a half. It had been announced by Professor Dumbledore that for the first time in an extremely long time, the international wizarding tournament known as the Triwizard Tournament, in which three schools would pick a champion from each and they would compete in three tasks to find one to be crowned the winner.

However, in the past, the competition had been riddled with countless deaths of innocent, young champions so for the resurrection of the tournament, a strict rule was imposed - an age limit. Only students of seventeen or over would be able to submit their name to be considered for the tournament. Many of the students were outraged by this revelation, but a fair few, some like Hermione were satisfied by this and thought it wise and was hopeful it would stop deaths in the competition completely.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had overheard Fred, George and Lee planning to hoodwink the judging committee or whatever it would be that chose the Triwizard champion for Hogwarts into believing they were of the legal age to compete. Hermione was vocal in her attempts to tell them that this would be an impossible feat, simply because Dumbledore knew how old all three of them were. They brushed her off with not much care or regard to her words.

As the term began and slowly began to move into the start of the school year, the trio had realised how much the work had been amped this year - the teachers were not hesitant in reminding the fourth years that this was their final year before they began their O.W.L's, otherwise known as Ordinary Wizarding Levels and that they would need all the help they could get for this year. Professor McGonagall, in particular, was vocal in the extreme difficulties of their upcoming exams in the next few exams and she would accept only the best of the best into her future classes. To their detriment, this stressed Hermione out more than the rest of the class which was a bad sign, since it was common knowledge was the smartest student in fourth year and no one would be surprised if her intelligence surpassed those even older than her.

Harry had been drawn to something in particular, however - their new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Mad-Eye Moody. In their very first lesson with him, he was adamant in showing the class what they're up against and how to prepare them for the very worst. He had demonstrated the three Unforgivable curses on animals. He had also uncomfortably pointed out that he, Harry, was the only one to ever survive the fatal killing curse. Harry wasn't a fan of being known for the simple reason of he didn't die along with his mother and father. It was rather unnerving when people brought it up most of the time, especially after his encounter with dementors from the previous year.

In late October, signs had been put up in the Great Hall signifying that the chosen applicants from the other wizarding schools known as Beauxbaton and Durmstrang would be arriving only days before Halloween. This had the school in a frenzy, as a lot of the students were excited to meet the students from these schools who would be trying their hand in the Triwizard Tournament.

On the day of their arrival, Professor Dumbledore had had the entire school arrange themselves in the grounds and welcomed them gracefully to the grounds and castle. Durmstrang had arrived by a boat that had sprung up from the Giant Squid's lake and had pulled up on the shore just ways away from Hagrid's hut.

The Beauxbaton students had been brought by chariot, however. Once they had arrived, Hagrid was all but eager to maintain the wellbeing of the horses that had carried the Beauxbaton's all this way. The headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbaton were known as Igor Karkaroff and Olympe Maxime, otherwise known as Madame Maxime respectfully.

However, the real thing everyone was focused on was the fact famous Quidditch player, Viktor Krum, had arrived with the Durmstrang students. Everyone was in disbelief he'd be applying for the tournament alongside the rest. Rumours circled immediately he'd be chosen due to his fame and his recent catching of the snitch at the World Cup. Not that anyone else from the Durmstrang students showed any signs of agreeing or refuting this; they were a quite bunch, it seemed.

Everyone had made their way into the Great Hall and sat in their respectful house tables. As the two other schools made their way into the Hall, Karkaroff and Maxime could be seen making their way up to empty chairs on either side of Dumbledore. Durmstrang students had saddled up at the Slytherin table; Harry had noticed that Draco Malfoy was trying to engage Viktor Krum in conversation, which irked him slightly.

The Beauxbaton girls, on the other hand, had gracefully sat at the ends of the Ravenclaw table, chattering amongst themselves until the time for Dumbledore to speak had came - this way the sway Dumbledore had over people. Even these people, who probably knew very little of him, would silence in his presence. He had that sheer sense of commanding presence. Harry always respected the way Dumbledore carried himself.

Dumbledore had unveiled the way the students would enter themselves into the tournament - there was a goblet sitting on the stool that would normally hold the Sorting Hat. It was appropriately named the 'Goblet of Fire' as it had a bright blue flame burning endlessly at the top of it. Dumbledore had specified all you would have to do is throw a bit of parchment with your name and school on it and you would be considered for the tournament.

To protect it from people who were too young to enter, he had drawn a magical golden line with his wand that acted as an age barrier. It could tell who was too young for the tournament and eject them from it instantaneously. However, a few seats away from him, Harry was almost certain he heard the voice of either Fred or George mutter 'age potion' under their breath. Harry pondered over this before putting his attention on Dumbledore again.

Dumbledore had informed them it would be in the middle of the Entrance Hall for anyone to submit their name for the next three days as they wish, but to think wisely before submitting as the Triwizard Tournament had a tormentous ordeal of hurdles to overcome before you could even contemplate being the winner of it.

With that said, Dumbledore had finished. The golden, marble doors that connected the Entrance Hall and Great Hall swung open and the Goblet and the stool flew overhead and situated themselves dead perfect in the centre of the room.

"That will be all. Goodnight, everyone." finished Dumbledore, standing down.

In moments, the students of Hogwarts noticed that every student from the two other schools were submitting their names as they spoke. To Harry's knowledge, he hadn't seen anyone from Hogwarts enter their name, but he could merit a guess as to why this was - they were probably a bit too embarrassed to do it around the entire school and their guests. Harry stared longingly at the Goblet's beautiful bluebell flames lighting the room in a pleasing manner, before descending to the Grand Staircase and making his way to the Gryffindor common room.

As the days passed, Harry had heard rumours of many Hogwarts students submitting their name. The name that travelled the school like wildfire was Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff. Harry could recollect Cedric with ease as he had beaten Harry in a Quidditch game the previous year, and he had met with him and his father Amos Diggory on the way to the Quidditch World Cup. Unfortunately, meeting his father wasn't a memory Harry enjoyed recollecting.

Harry had also heard Angelina Johnson submitted herself to which he had the utmost of pleasure. She had been one of the only remaining Gryffindor Quidditch team members remaining from the very first year he started and he felt personally honoured that she could have a chance to not only represent Gryffindor, but the school as a whole. Word had spread fast about the conquests of Fred and George trying to smuggle their name into the goblet as well.

Both twins had made an aging potion that did not fool the aging line and caused them to spontaneously grow white hair and a floor length beard, the same as Dumbledore's. This caused everyone who witnessed the scene laughs aplenty. All except for Hermione who had repeatedly muttered, "I told you so…"

—

The night of the champion choosing ceremony had arrived. The castle was in tense spirits as talk was running amok about who would be the champion for each school. The only that seemed certain to everyone was that Viktor Krum would be the champion for Durmstrang. Hermione didn't have trouble pointing out the goblet wasn't objective in who it is choose, but that it was completely random. Sadly, no one gave her a moment's notice to contemplate the validity of that statement.

Everyone had gathered in the Great Hall and were waiting in murmured anticipation for the results of who the champions were going to be. Harry was praying that Angelina was chosen as Hogwarts' champion, since he would know someone amazing would be playing for them.

After a very fast paced dinner, Dumbledore stood at the front of the room, with the Goblet moved back to where he originally showed everyone it. He spoke in a loud voice.

"This… is the Goblet of Fire. If your name is pulled from this Goblet, you are under a binding magical contract to see this through to the end. There's no turning back - you must compete. With that, I wish good luck to all the champions I am about to reveal just now. If I call your name, you would please make your way along the staff table and into the Records Room behind us." He cast a glance at a tiny door off to the side of hall.

"Now, let us begin."

Dumbledore drew a hand and hovered it above the goblet. Within seconds, a piece of parchment burst from the goblet and drifted lazily into Dumbledore's hand.

With a booming voice, Dumbledore called out, "Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbaton!"

With a resounding applause, Fleur, a moderately tall girl with platinum blonde hair made her way along the side of the hall and slipped into the Records Room. It took a tiny while for the clapping to die down.

Then, the process repeated. Dumbledore averted his gaze into the froth of the flames as they rose higher than usual and then, a burst of old brown parchment fluttered down and Dumbledore clutched it in his hands and bellowed, "Viktor Krum of Durmstrang!"

The noise was tumultuous - the clapping, whistling and shouting was overwhelming even after Viktor had disappeared into the Records Room. After 5 minutes or so, the last of the applause had finally died down and Dumbledore could move onto the Hogwarts champion.

The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop - Dumbledore's lips could be seen trembling as he, along with everyone else, waited eagerly for the champion to be revealed to them. After seconds, the bluebell flames erupted and another parchment came hailing down and curling itself in Dumbledore's hands.

The earth stopped as Dumbledore cried out, "Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!"

The cheers, cries, screams of the Hufflepuff table could have been heard from eons away. Even the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables were overjoyed for Cedric. Harry was clapping hard and even bellowed a few "Go Cedric!"'s in order to show his support. He was happy that Hufflepuff got some recognition and he knew Cedric had the magical capability to hold his own, so he was very excited for him. Somewhere, in the pits of his stomach however, he felt a little resentment for not being picked.

As Cedric made his way into the Records Room and the room became silent once more, Dumbledore began talking to the room at large.

"Well now, well now! Our three champions have been chosen. Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbaton, Mister Viktor Krum of Durmstrang and Mister Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts of the Hufflepuff house. These are your champions, and we hope you all will do what you can to support each and everyone through the trials and tribulations they will surely face at the hands of the Triwi-..."

Dumbledore's speech had been cut short. Everyone in the room could see it. The Goblet of Fire's flames were dancing rapidly, spinning and the brightest bluebell flame thus far had dancingly descended upon them and revealed another bit of parchment. Dumbledore's hand shook as he clutched onto it and the reaction on his features were all anyone needed to know.

"Harry Potter…?"

Suddenly, Harry heard chairs squeak and grind against the marble floor as pretty much every eye in the room turned to focus on him. He did not get up from his seat. He just stared wildly from Ron, to Hermione, then to Dumbledore. There was no applause this time.

"Harry Potter!"

Hermione had nudged Harry on the arm and shoved him so he would be forced to stand up. Harry swallowed nervously and turned back to look at his two best friends as he did the walk of shame in the Great Hall. He walked right up to Dumbledore, but no words were uttered between the pair. Dumbledore turned his head to the door and Harry need not be told anymore, as he headed there, not daring to look back again as the entire school looked at him in utter disbelief.

As he entered the Records Room, he heard shouts behind him. "He's not even 17!"

"This isn't fair!" "Why weren't we given an opportunity?" and other condescending remarks Harry immediately tried to block out of his mind.

Harry descended the stone steps into the Records Room where he found the other champions being dead quiet and all looking at various trophies. Cedric spoke nonchalantly, "Oh, are they looking us to come back?" Harry could not even meet his eyes. He just kept his gaze fixated on his shoes on the floor.

A few moments later, he heard a crash, almost as if a stampede of elephants had arrived on the scene. It was a frenzy. The teachers, and the Ministry of Magic representatives involved with the Triwizard Tournament arrangements had argued for ages on whether or not Harry should be allowed to compete. After various back and forths, snide remarks and confused glances from the champions to each other, a decision was reached.

"Harry... you didn't put your name in that Goblet of Fire, did you? You didn't ask an older student to do it for you?" rasped Professor Dumbledore.

"No… no, sir."

"It seems, no matter who put your name into the goblet, Harry, I am afraid you are now legally contracted to participate in the tournament."

Karkaroff's and Maxime's reactions to this development were outrageous. They were sickened by the fact Hogwarts had two champions and they could not have two. They had swore that no matter what happened, they would not come back to Hogwarts in regards to this contest again and were extremely vocal in the presence of Harry about their vehement dislike for this sudden bending of the rules, when the Ministry of Magic representatives would not allow the two to pick another student from their schools.

The champions had been informed they would be given more directions later on in the week. Karkaroff had stormed out of the room desperate to get away from this scene, with an obvious distaste for the current situation. Viktor Krum did not move, however. As the teachers and two other champions cleared off, alongside the Ministry of Magic representatives, it was only the two of them left in the Records Room.

Harry was about to follow the rest and make his way back up the stone steps when he felt a hand grip his shoulder. A thick accent and Harry could only estimate it belonged to the only other person in the room with him at the very moment. He could just barely make out the words, "Excuse me for asking, but would you happen to be called Harry Potter? I have heard of you before. Heard about how you have been through many things. I learn that you once flew here to school in a car?"

Harry was gobsmacked and didn't know what to say. The famous, legendary seeker Viktor Krum, was here, stopping him for a conversation and asking him about the escapades he had gotten up to in the past. A minute or so passed and he felt extremely awkward as he had yet to reply to the other. Viktor was about to speak up when Harry blurted out, "Yeah, that was me... I couldn't get on the train to Hogwarts, so I had to look for a different way to get here and... a flying car was the easiest."

A grin pursed itself on Viktor's lips as he seemed to envision this inside his head. Harry was dumbfounded by what was going on around him. First, he had been submitted to this dangerous tournament meant for wizards who were of legal age and now the famous Viktor Krum was here talking to him. If he wasn't completely sure he was awake and this was happening, he would have done everything in his power to try and wake himself up from this weird, wild dream. He would even believe that Fred and George had slipped something into his dinner Pumpkin Juice that caused the wildest of dreams to happen when you were asleep - but the way he felt about the entire situation was definitely real. This was happening and he was just wondering why this was happening.

"That sounds... pretty funny." Viktor spoke, slowly. "I apologise if you cannot understand me because of my voice. I cannot help it, you see," Harry jumped and began waving his hands and shaking his head, speaking in a rather laid back tone. "No! You're fine... honestly. I'm just in shock. You're Viktor Krum. I saw you this year at the Quidditch World Cup. You were amazing to watch. I was at the highest part of the stadium. You did stuff on a broom that I wouldn't even think imaginable."

To this, Harry noticed Viktor's head leaned over to the side a little out of obvious embarrassment. It seems complimenting his flying skills was the way to go. "I... well, thank you. That's very kind. A lot of my pride is in my capability to fly. I don't have my Firebolt with me. Karkaroff said I could not bring it as I would not need it for the tournament."

Harry plunged at the opportunity. "I have a Firebolt! I got it just last year. Since we're both champions and such and this whole thing is about interpersonal magical friendships or something..." he had a feeling that if Hermione had heard him right now, she would have slapped him for getting every single thing she had told him wrong. At least he thought it was wrong. To his relief, however, the grin that was on Viktor's face stayed as he turned towards the stone steps and let out a cool, "I... would like that, Harry. I'm sure you have classes tomorrow, so please come and find me in your school's library when you are free. Don't disappoint me."

And without looking back, Viktor waved a hand goodbye and proceeded up the stone steps.

Harry stood in disbelief and shock, unable to do anything in his stupor.


	2. Trying

Harry's thoughts were scattered as he climbed the Grand Staircase.

After moments of a stunned silence throughout the Records Room, he had eventually moved up the stone steps in a careful manner. Once he came out the small door that held the room, he noticed the great long tables had been pushed to the side of the room and that it was completely empty. He had made his way through the hall in a swift pace, knowing that if he took too long, he would get caught by the Prefects surely beginning their rounds in just a few moments, and he was already unsure on his reputation in the school after his name was feigned into the Triwizard Tournament.

He couldn't get over the conversation with Viktor. Now that he was by his own thoughts, it was pretty shocking that one of the most famous Quidditch players ever had taken a seemingly genuine interest in him. This fact was even more surprising, in the heat of the moment, than the fact he had to take part in a tournament that was widely known for killing its competitors.

He was praying that once he reached the Fat Lady, the portrait that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, the house would be asleep so he could have more time to trail over these thoughts rolling around in his head. His first action would be to inform Sirius of what had happened tonight; it would surely be headline news in the Daily Prophet once it got out and Harry was adamant in knowing Sirius would much prefer hearing the news come from him.

However, to his dismay, once he arrived to Gryffindor Tower, he heard screams and cheers coming from beyond the other side of the Fat Lady. After grumbling the password to the portrait, it swung open and permit him to enter. He stumbled up the steps and immediately upon arriving, he saw the Weasley twins run up and bombard him, propelling him onto their shoulders and carrying him into the middle of the common room. All around him was the chanting of "Harry! Harry! Harry!"

Needless to say, he was extremely confused.

He was lowered by the twins after a hot minute, to which he felt many of the Gryffindor's give him pats on either the back or shoulder or the odd thumbs up. Hermione soon approached him and spoke in a flighty tone, "Harry! Dumbledore told us after you entered the room, you would be the fourth champion! You're going to compete in the Triwizard Tournament! Oh my goodness Harry, what did you do?" despite her reproachfulness once the tournament had been limited to people seventeen or over, Hermione had been content. However, now that Harry was a champion it seems her dismay for a young champion had went out of the window - slightly. She followed this up with, "You're going to compete, right? You didn't drop out? You're going to have to be really careful, Harry - people have died in that tournament! It's... extremely dangerous!"

"I'm still a champion, Hermione. I'm thinking a lot of things right now. Where's Ron?"

To his surprise, Hermione had a look form on her face that was quite indicative of what she was about to say.

"Well... Ron isn't... he..." Hermione's spluttering of the words was beginning to aggravate Harry when she trembled the words on the tip of her tongue in one full swoop.

"He wasn't happy when he found out that you were a champion. He went straight to the boys dormitory when we all got back here and - how did you enter, anyway?"

"I didn't enter! I don't know what happened. I don't know why my name ended up in that Goblet."

"You... didn't enter?"

"No! I'm just as shocked as everyone else. Why do you think you had to push me for just to even move to the Records Room?"

"I... suppose that's true. Ron needs to hear this, though. He was upset because thinks you entered without him."

"Well, that's ridiculous. Why would I want to enter a tournament known for killing people?"

"Tell that to Ron, Harry. Not me. He should be up in the boys dormitories."

With one quick nod of the head, Harry waved her off and rushed to the boys dormitories where he entered the circular room with around seven beds. He looked over to a bed beside his own that had one particularly disgruntled Ron, sitting with his legs stretched out and his arms crossed.

Harry went over to the bed and Ron looked up, but didn't speak. Harry furrowed his brows before starting.

"Hermione told me you're upset?"

"I thought that best friends told each other everything. I thought that if you figured out how to put your name in, you would have told me how to do it as well, but it's whatever. I don't care."

"Ron, I didn't even put my own name in that goblet! I don't know who put me in, or why it was in!"

"Yeah, you don't have anything to explain to me. Why don't you go back on down to your fan club downstairs?"

With this statement, Ron sat up and began pulling the curtains around his bed, to block him from sight. Harry was enraged and shouted, "What's wrong with you? I wouldn't lie about that, I'm meant to be your best friend!" and in the aftermath, he heard a shrill "Piss off," escape Ron's lips. He kicked his trunk beside his bed out of furious desire and made his way back down to the common room before he began kicking off with Ron.

Hermione was still down there, but in the small amount of time Harry had been gone he had the realisation that most of the common room had fizzled out and went off to bed. Harry took her over to the corner and began whispering in an angry tone, "What an idiot. He won't believe me! He just closed the curtains to his bed and he's being a right git. I also need to talk to Snuffles about my name ending up in the Goblet of Fire-..."

Before he could proceed, Hermione shrieked and began to pounce, "No, no, no, Harry! He'll come back! Sir- I mean, Snuffles, will come back from the north if you tell him about this, Harry. Don't get him worried, just - take some time and think about how this tournament is going to go. What are we going to do if Sirius comes bursting into the school to pull you from the tournament?"

Harry couldn't deny the likelihood of this happening. Sirius was extremely protective of Harry, and the last thing he wanted was his godfather to be captured in the vicinity of Hogwarts. The only people to know of Sirius' true innocence were him, Ron, Hermione, Remus Lupin and Dumbledore. Towards the end of their third year, they had discovered the existence of Peter Pettigrew as Ron's old rat, Scabbers. He was an unregistered Animagus, someone who could transform into an animal upon command.

"I'll think about it, Hermione... but he's going to find out at some point or other. Do you think they're going to hush something like this up?" Harry spoke, inquiring Hermione's position on the matter.

"I suppose you're right... it's your choice, Harry. I just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

Harry appreciated Hermione giving him the freedom to do whatever he wanted with this situation. He pondered for a few seconds over telling her about the encounter with Krum after he entered the Records Room, but decided against it - something inside him told him that it was something he would rather keep to himself. It felt like an invite extended only to him, and no one else.

"Well, I'm going to bed. It's been a very long night. I can't imagine how it feels for you." said Hermione. Harry simply nodded in agreement, spoke absent mindedly, "Yeah, me too. Goodnight, Hermione." Harry watched her walk to the girls dormitories and saw her leave his view as she walked up the staircase. He let out a sigh under his breath, and made his way over to his own dormitory. The thought of going to sleep in the same room as Ron right now made his stomach churn, but he needed to rest.

He made his way up the staircase and cast a single glance over to where Ron would sleep, seeing the curtains drawn round, hiding his 'best friend' from view. He gritted his teeth before moving over to his own bed and aggressively throwing the curtains around his own, stripping down to his underwear and socks and laying in bed. He would just hope that this was either or a dream, or, in the event it wasn't, Ron would come to his senses and realise Harry wasn't lying to him about this.

With some soft yawns, Harry eventually drifted off into a deep sleep.

—

Harry awoke the next morning feeling particularly groggy. He had been met with difficulty trying to sleep that night. His mind had mulled over the encounter with Viktor, the reality of the situation that he was, in fact, a Triwizard champion. He also couldn't get over the resentment he was currently harbouring towards Ron for the attitude he had displayed the night previously. He had just wanted for it to hush up, but it seems reality had another idea at hand today.

Harry got up from his bed and opened up the curtains, revealing that he had quite clearly slept in as from as far as he could tell, he was completely deserted. No one, not even Ron, was there. Typically, the two best friends would wake each other up or wait for the other to wake up every morning as their timetables were exactly the same, and they had been known to be inseparable best friends.

Harry pulled on his school robes with ease and fixed his glasses properly on his face. He stretched a little, and then made his way downstairs into the common room. He was also met with an almost deserted room - the only people that could be seen right now were older students who were up to their eyes in books, doing homework or nothing at all. "Two types of people," thought Harry inwardly as he noticed the stark difference in some of the older students methods of spending free time.

He proceeded out of the portrait hole onto the Grand Staircase and made his way down, stopping to talk to no one. One thing had became apparent though as he quickly made his way down - he was extremely unpopular with the Hufflepuffs. By no volition of their own, Hufflepuff had always been the least recognisable house - that is to say, most people considered it the most boring house and Harry wasn't deluded as to why they were acting like this. They were proud to have a representative in Cedric Diggory, but now that Harry was a Triwizard champion, any and all Hufflepuffs that crossed paths with Harry were now just completely silent, with the odd dirty look thrown in.

Harry felt that this would be foreshadowing for the next while to come.

Then, he arrived at the Great Hall and stood in the doorway. He scanned the Gryffindor Table up and down in any sight of Hermione. To his relief, Hermione was relatively close to the entrance. He hunched over a little, and moved into the hall. Something else that had caught Harry's attention was that he could spot, near the complete opposite end of the hall, at the Gryffindor Table, was a collection of heads all sprouting ginger hair, leaning in closely and talking. Harry was in no disbelief that Ron was sitting as far away as possible with his older brothers, Fred and George. He gritted his teeth and put all his attention back to Hermione once more.

"You're finally awake. Do you want something to eat, Harry? You look a little off colour this morning," spoke Hermione, gesturing over to pieces of toast, eggs, bacon and an array of more food options to choose from. Harry would have initially said yes, but upon seeing Ron actively avoid him, he felt grated and it had upset his appetite.

"No thanks, Hermione. I just want to get to our first class. Ron still won't talk to me. He's being an idiot." He scoffed, shooting a dark look at the end of the table, knowing Ron was there with his brothers. He hoped the aggression would reach him from up here.

"We have Transfiguration until break, then we have Charms until Lunch and a double History of Magic to dinner." Hermione had known their timetable like the back of their hand by this point.

"Fun day ahead then, I guess." sighed Harry, getting up off the bench that seated students at the tables.

"Oh, cheer up, Harry. He'll come around soon. He's just a bit jealous, that's all."

"Don't know what he's jealous about. I'm only playing in a tournament that's known for killing a large portion of its competitors."

"I know that, Harry! Just - come on, let's get going."

Hermione packed up her things, but as they were about to leave, Harry had heard her mutter under her breath, "I wonder when the house elves will come to collect everything to clean up…?" Harry knew this was to try and free house elves from their work, under the guise of S.P.E.W, otherwise known as 'Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare'.

Truth be told, Harry knew the house elves loved their jobs and would be utterly devastated if they ever had to leave it. He could recall the sobbing, horrid mess of Winky after being criticised and given clothes by Barty Crouch. He could go his whole life without ever seeing such an abysmally pathetic scene again.

—

The only thing that could keep Harry persevering through the lessons today was the idea of going off to meet with Viktor Krum in the library after everything was over. The downside to these lessons was that it was painfully clear to Harry that Ron was still angry about Harry becoming a champion. He had tried to talk to him during lunch, but Ron was frivolous to get away from him and joined Fred and George as they had began to leave the Great Hall. All Hermione had to say on the situation was that he should 'give Ron time' to come around. In Harry's earnest opinion, he shouldn't need time to come around. Ron should have believed his best friend. During the day, he had also realised that Hufflepuffs were not the only people upset with him - even Ravenclaws had been giving him the cold shoulder, much to his annoyance. Hermione had to enlist the help of Ginny to pull him away from some tall fifth year Hufflepuff boy when he towered over Harry and called him a cheat and a fraud. A Slytherin prefect was on the scene when the encounter happened, and they were quick to dismiss ten house points from Gryffindor.

Harry was quick to scoff his dinner down that evening. He had one plate of chips with sausages, bacon and beans. In a matter of minutes, it was evaporated from the plate and he had immediately began to pack up his things. As he was about to leave, Hermione had enclosed her hand around his wrist and looked up at him, "Where are you going, Harry?"

"I've got, uh, something important to do. Triwizard tournament stuff. I'll see you in the common room later, alright?"

"Alright then," and she returned to her plate.

Harry scaled the Grand Staircase extremely quickly, making haste for the second floor as soon as he could. He peered around the corner, getting a good view of the rows in the room. To his delight, far down in a row near the back of the library, he spotted a tall man with short brown hair sporting a large fur coat. Harry instantly recognised this as Krum. The library was also deserted, with the exception on some students who were trifling with more important matters.

Harry made his way down the library, unable to contain the grin spreading across his face as he saw Krum glance up from the book and return the smile. Harry hadn't quite noticed it in the Records Room due to the general lighting, but Krum had a very distinctive patch of beard. It distinctuated his jawline and made his face look much smoother and maturer. Harry was a tiny bit jealous.

As they were no more than five footsteps away, Harry spoke up, "Hi, Viktor. You wanted me to meet with you, right?"

"Yes, I did. Come, sit. Let's talk."

Harry moved over to a chair situated opposing Krum. As he did this, he noticed the height difference between the two of them. This was to be expected, however. Krum was definitely older than him, however clearly not by too much, considering he was still in school. If Harry had to make an assumption, he would guess he was eighteen. It felt like a pretty safe area to estimate.

"So, what is it you want to talk about?" said Harry.

"Let us talk about you. You are very interesting. I have heard of your legend. The boy to live, was it not?"

"The boy who lived, but yeah."

"Ah, I see," a tinge of red tainted the other's features. Harry couldn't help but to appreciate how such a silly thing could embarrass one of the most famous people in the wizarding world today.

Viktor continued on, "Your school is very big. Durmstrang is a lot smaller compared to this place."

"No kidding. On my first year here, I got lost more times than I can count. I still get lost, even to this day. Hogwarts is full of secrets waiting to be uncovered."

"Lots of secrets, you say? Durmstrang has secrets. I don't think a Hogwarts secret getting out would be as bad as a Durmstrang one, however." Harry noted that as he said this, Viktor turned his around side to side, and had also lowered his tone.

"Well I… wouldn't know. I mean, there is a giant chamber somewhere in a girls bathroom. That's only a rumour, though." Harry knew that this wasn't true, but he thought it'd be a little too much for the other to comprehend.

"That… is odd."

"I suppose you're right. But, hey, enough about schools, let's talk about you! I've been a big fan of yours, ever since the World Cup. Where did you learn to fly so well?"

Krum had a sly grin on his features as he eased himself more into the chair he was now relaxing on, spreading out a little. "My father, Dmitri Krum, taught me a lot when I was a little boy. I spent most of my childhood on a broom. I play a lot for local teams in Bulgaria also. One day, I was scouted for an international team of Bulgaria's and that is how I came to be known today."

Harry found this intriguing - he could certainly see why he had been scouted, his prowess on a broom was something that Harry didn't know could ever be matched.

"Wow. That sounds amazing, I'm a quidditch player too. Seeker, specifically. I'm the youngest player for a Hogwarts quidditch team in a century. My dad was also a flier, so I think I just inherited my talent from him." A proud note was noticeable in Harry's voice as he spoke.

"That is sweet. It's good you enjoy flying. I am looking forward to playing in this tournament with you, Harry."

Harry was taken aback by this statement. Viktor's personal appearance was very betraying to his actual personality. On the outset, he looked mean and almost as if he'd curse you if you looked at him funny. Harry was beginning to learn there was more on the inside, however.

"Yeah, same here. I'm sure you'll do pretty great. You're good at being under pressure, right? Considering your professional matches as a quidditch player."

Viktor let out a tiny laugh. "You would think so. I'm sure you understand how it is to be out in the field searching for the snitch, when your whole team is relying on you. It is bad."

Harry could agree with this sentiment. As Viktor said this, his mind flashed back to the game of Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff in his third year, where he had his final game with his Nimbus 2000 before it was destroyed by the Whomping Willow after he had fallen due to the sudden presence of numerous dementors on the pitch. Cedric Diggory was also the seeker in this game. It was slightly ironic now that he thought about it a little more.

"Yeah… I think I get what you mean. That's what makes quidditch so amazing, though."

Viktor smiled, before a questioning look formed on his features, pondering Harry's curiosity before Viktor piped up, "You told me last night you had a Firebolt. It is true, yes? Perhaps you can go and retrieve it and I can bring you for a ride on it. I'm sure it would teach you a lot about your flying."

The idea intrigued Harry. Harry, however, felt that if people found out he had let an opposing Triwizard champion do this, they would wonder if he was mental. Some people would even call it 'fraternizing with the enemy'. Although, due to the way he had been getting treated around the school today, he had a slyly mischievous side to him today, which only urged him into taking up the other's offer.

"You know what? I'll bite. Do you want me to go get it now?"

"Yes. I would… like that. I am already dearly missing flying, as it is. I promise it will be fun."

"I'll be back in just fifteen minutes. Wait there."

And with that, Viktor watched as Harry sprang up and dashed off towards the library's exit. He stood up and watched as Harry left. Then, unbeknownst to himself for a few moments, he spoke aloud. "He is a very cute boy. He's very.. Interesting. I think I will like him a lot."

And with that, Viktor made his way towards the exit also, in hopes to catch Harry as he returned to the library.


	3. Flights and Feelings

Harry dashed up the Grand Staircase, feeling more grandiose than usual. In the crevices of his mind, he knew that if anyone knew he was trusting someone he'd known for only one day with his Firebolt, he'd get signed into St. Mungos quicker than it takes Professor Trelawney to predict his death in their Divination lessons - and that was pretty quick, admittedly.

He didn't care though - he was beyond the point of being fed up with the way he had been treated today and he knew it was only going to get worse from here on out. What's the worst that could happen, right? It wasn't as if Viktor was going to hop on it and fly away from the school. He was already a champion. Harry found that he didn't regret his initial decision to accept Viktor's offer.

He reached the Fat Lady within minutes, uttered the password to the portrait and she slid over and granted him entry. As he walked in, it was mostly deserted, which was a good thing. No one would ask where Harry was going with his Firebolt - his meeting with Viktor was still going to be private. He preferred it like that. Something in him felt that this blossoming friendship with Viktor was something he felt that shouldn't be a public fact. He pondered if Viktor felt the same way.

Harry slipped into the boys dormitories and nimbled over to his bed, lifting the bedding that trailed along the floor to reveal a Firebolt in lock and chain in order to prevent anyone getting any funny ideas in attempting to steal it while he was gone. Not that he assumed any of the Gryffindors that shared the room with him would do this, but you never knew who could get into these dormitories. Just last year, an escaped convict had managed to find his way in here standing over Ron with a knife.

Granted, it was later learned by them that Sirius Black was falsely charged and that he was, indeed, innocent after all. The thoughts of his godfather made him feel a tinge warmer. It made him feel more corporeal - despite everything, he could still love. Harry also couldn't help but let out a small chortle as he pictured Dumbledore's enlightenment at Harry's emotional state.

Harry recovered the Firebolt, fixing the bedding to where it would cover where the chains lay to hold down the Firebolt. With one last glance back into the room, the wooden doors slammed shut and Harry departed for the second floor, hoping to find Viktor waiting for him.

Sure enough, once Harry had arrived on the fourth floor, Harry noticed the tall outline of a man in a proud stature, also glancing up at him. The man Harry made out to be Krum waved a light hand. Harry returned it with a thumbs up. He ran down the staircase, his Firebolt kept safely tucked under his arm.

Once he met with Viktor, he loosened the grip on the Firebolt and held it out. Viktor ran a hand down it and a smile formed on his face. "Very good. Very well kept. It's nice to meet someone as dedicated as I am." A small blush appeared on Harry's face as one of the most famous seekers in the world admired his attention to detail in caring for his broom. It was definitely his most prized possession, with the only exception being his wand.

"Yeah, I got it last Christmas. Anyways, shall we head down to Hogwarts' quidditch pitch? We're not having a quidditch cup this year, but I think it's still useable." said Harry.  
"Hmm," spoke Viktor, aloud. "Is it well out of sight? I wouldn't like us to be disturbed. I've had a lot of admirers disrupt me since I came to this school. It would be nice if it could be kept between us. I presume no one knows about this, no?"  
Harry was quick to shake his head at the other's question. "No, no one knows. I haven't had a good day today. I wish I was having your experience as a champion, but it's whatever," a frown formed on his lips as he inwardly felt jealousy at the high pedestal everyone seemed to place Viktor on. "And yeah, it'd be hard to tell it was us, even if you were sitting in the stadium. You don't have to worry about people getting in the way of us."

Viktor let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. Even I need a break sometimes. Well, shall we?" And with that, Viktor proceeded down the stairs, not turning back to look at Harry as he want. Harry stood, dimwitted, for a few moments before he realised what Viktor meant and began to speedily catch up to him.

A few people had been mingling in the Entrance Hall, but it was just mostly groups of friends heading back to their common rooms or conversing between themselves. Harry did notice him and Viktor get starred and pointed at by a group of girls who were probably older than Harry, but younger than Viktor. He hoped they wouldn't try to follow the two of them out to the quidditch pitch. He, like Viktor, needed a break from people for today.

The grounds were mostly empty, thankfully. Harry was even happy to see that Hagrid wasn't around - he was sure Hagrid wouldn't outright chastesize Harry for making friends with Krum, but Harry was sure he would throw out several cautionary statements and make him wary of Krum. He felt this would be unfair and unfounded because besides Hermione, Krum was the person being the warmest to him right now.

"Just a path off here, and we should be there." pointed Harry, a giant wooden door that held the entrance to the quidditch changing rooms and general entrance to the stadium. "We are quite a ways away from the school, it seems. I do not think we'll be interrupted out here." spoke Krum. "You're right." replied Harry.

The sky was a darkening blue. If Harry had to speculate, he would assume street lights back in Privet Drive would be turning on right about now. He didn't want to stay out too late with the other in fear of anything happening to either of them. He also thought it was plausible to harbour a slight seed of distrust for anyone he was new to, especially considering his past affairs.

Harry and Viktor made way into the changing rooms. Harry glanced up at the taller male and said, "What are you going to wear to fly? There's probably some spare uniforms in here that could maybe fit you. They'd probably be a little tight, but you're pretty bulky." This was no exaggeration at all - compared to Harry, Krum issued power. Harry didn't feel too intimidated by it, but he had made a mental note from the first time he saw Krum up close to never make him upset.

"It is no matter." Viktor took off his giant fur coat, revealing a thick long sleeved t-shirt, showing off the crest of Durmstrang in the top left corner of it. It was blue and tucked into his black sweatpants. Harry noticed that with the coat off how toned the other's body was - the chest area was certainly more pushed out, but the stomach area definitely was more closed in. "I'll play in just this. It's fine."

Harry nodded shortly, before handing Krum the Firebolt. Krum hesitated for a second and then took it in his grasp, running his hands over it again. Harry couldn't help but notice that Krum was muttering under his breath in a different language. Harry felt it was correct to assume that it was his mother tongue, Bulgarian. He didn't say anything but wonder avidly at what made Krum do this.

"Alright, let's go to the pitch. Just out this door?" Viktor directed at Harry. "Yeah, through there and you're right out to the pitch." replied Harry. Viktor swung the door open and proceeded out in fast haste. Harry followed behind, feeling somewhat smaller than usual. Something about hanging around with Krum was sort of demeaning - but he assumed this was all inside this head, since as he had recollected in the castle, Krum was the person who had been the most nice to him today.

Harry and Viktor walked to the middle of the pitch, both gazing up at the sky. It had darkened a tiny bit. Harry saw a star, extremely far off. Viktor began mounting the broom and hovered a few feet off the ground on it. He called out to Harry, "Very nice. I really like what you do with your Firebolt, Harry." Harry felt warmer inside at the quidditch star's praise and spoke mildly, "Thanks, I guess. You can go for a ride on it now, I'll watch."

Viktor had a puzzled looked on his features. Harry was curious as to the other's disposition on him granting free control of his Firebolt. Viktor piped up, "I thought we were riding together, no?" Following this, he placed a hand behind him, issuing to Harry that he wanted him to sit there. Harry spluttered over his next few words. "I, - well, uh... if you want. I'll get on then." Viktor nodded.

After a slight bit of difficulty, Harry climbed onto the back of the broom, sitting nonchalantly. He placed his hands between the bits of broom revealed between him and Viktor. Viktor turned his head around and spoke, "Your arms. Hold onto me. You will slip off and fall if you don't. I am fast on a broom... but I do not think I'd be able to help you if that happened." spoke Viktor, a tone of worry in his voice.

Harry's face flushed as he moved his arms up and wrapped them carefully around Viktor's waist. Their bodies were close to each other. Something felt a little weird to Harry, but he decided to brush it off. He boiled it all down to nerves about flying with the Viktor Krum, an international quidditch star.

"Get ready. On five." forewarned Krum. Harry gulped and tightened his grip a little more.

"One, two…" and with that, Krum shot off like a bolt. Harry almost fell back as they shot straight up into the air, zooming higher and higher into what seemed like endless sky. After a few moments, Krum fixated them correctly as they hovered miles above the quidditch pitch. It took Harry a few moments to recover his breath.

Viktor turned around and grinned shyly. "I forgot the other numbers, so I decided to just go instantly. Heh. You're okay, yes?" Harry was still struggling to breathe after such an exhilarating take off. "Y-Yeah! I'm fine. I just didn't expect that, it was amazing!" Krum had an embarrassed glint on his features. "You are too nice, Harry. Let's keep flying."

And yet again, without a warning, Krum shot off and soared around in the clouds. Harry was squeezing around Krum's middle, forgetting that his legs even existed as now that he was in this momentum and in so little control of the situation, they felt nonexistent. The only thing that was real when you were this high in the sky was that the only thing to keep you safe was your broom. Thankfully, Harry had a quidditch legend at his disposal also.

Krum took swift dives and knew how to sharply pull out of them. Harry's specialty was dives - but he'd be lying to himself if he didn't believe at quite a few points that they were actually going to collide with the ground. Harry felt that you couldn't help but to admire how much practice Viktor has put into practising the sport of quidditch. He didn't know a single player alive who could perform as nimbly and suavely as Viktor did.

Viktor began to proceed to unwind in the speed, and soon, they were gliding along the air on the sky, the sky blackening. Stars were visible now - they seemed closer, yet further away than ever before. Viktor was panting heavily, as was Harry. Viktor turned around and said, "Well?" inquiring for Harry's opinion on his flying.

"That was bloody brilliant. You're amazing at this. How did you get so good?"  
"I've been flying since I was very young. My father taught me how to do it. He was also a quidditch player. Dmitri Krum. His reputation helped me get scouted and trained like this."  
Harry simply stared in awe at Viktor's recollection - he certainly had one interesting childhood, that was for sure. Harry wished he could have experienced something like it, but his was full of dreadful memories of the Dursleys and the horrid life he faced back there. He shuddered, not wanting the memory of those 'waiting' for him back there to ruin this moment for him.  
"That seems like a load of fun. Loads better than mine, at least."  
Viktor gave him a slightly sad stare. This shocked Harry - Viktor was emotive than Harry had initially gave credit for. He certainly knew how to radiate a cold aura and present one, that was for sure. This guy was more pleasant than he had initially expected. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he was sure he could hear Hermione's voice utter, "Celebrities are people, just like us, too."

"How about we move away from this quidditch pitch? It's nice but it's much too small for my pleasure. We don't have to go near the school. We can fly over the forest below."  
Harry smiled in response, "Yeah. I'd like that."  
"Alright, get ready. I'm about to go off again."  
Harry returned to his slightly bent position, putting all his energy into gripping onto Krum. After time, he hadn't really minded this. As weird as it felt to imagine, Krum was actually quite nice to hold like this.

In seconds, they shot off and Harry looked down at everything below him. When he had flown, he had always been focused on quidditch, and never quite looking at what was around him. Like this, he could truly take in the beauty of the world below him when he was on a broomstick. The sight was breathtaking, no doubt. He was glad he didn't reject Viktor's offer - this was incredible.

Viktor zoomed across the thick layers of the forest below them. Harry had never truly realised how deep and mellowed the forest was. Even from above, it seemed to last for miles upon miles. He was fairly confident that it was probably bigger than some settlements in Britain. He didn't want to even assume what kind of creatures laid in the most dense parts of the forest. The furthest he had ever gone was to meet with a giant spider called Aragog, and even then, he barely made it out alive, and this was a sudden realisation that Aragog probably was not the most frightening monster in there.

As the sky fell even darker, with every few tricks Viktor would pull off, Harry could notice a bright orange in the forest sometimes. He even thought he could hear voices at one point. He brushed it off to being his imagination, but it still peaked his curiosity, but he knew he'd be better off if he kept his mind elsewhere. He had had enough of the Forbidden Forest to last him a lifetime, and he wasn't about to make another trip in there if he could help.

After swoops, dives, loops in the air and all sorts of crazy combinations on a broom Harry didn't even think imaginable, Viktor had stopped agained. He was catching his breath, one hand keeping grip on the broom. He was coughing slightly. "You okay, Viktor?" he plucked up the courage to ask. "Yes. Fine. It's getting cold though, even for me. You noticed it too, yes?"

"Noticed what?" Inquired Harry, the statement grasping his curiosity.

"This forest. It looks like something is happening inside it. I wonder what could be going on. Would you have any idea? This seems very odd to keep near a school."  
"I know some of the stuff that goes on in it.. I've been in there before, but definitely not in the deepest parts of it. I don't know what that orange light was, if that's what you're referring to."  
Viktor hummed a little, a puzzled look appearing on his expressions.

"It is dark it now. Karkaroff will be wondering where I have headed off to. I did not quite tell him of this meeting, you see. I think he will keep his eye on me since I am the champion of Durmstrang. It is slightly overbearing, but I am sure he will lay off soon." spoke Viktor aloud. "I will drop you off at the gates of your school, then go back to the boat."

Harry interrupted quickly, "No! If you don't mind, I'll drop you off. I'd feel bad, considering the great time I've had. Plus, it's a little embarrassing to say but... I was wanting to know your opinion on my flying. I mean, heading back to your boat isn't the best way, but I'm sure we can arrange more stuff like this. This was a lot of fun."

Viktor beamed and was accepting of the offer instantly. "That is very kind, Harry. Thank you. I'd be happy to bear witness to your flying. You must be very skilled if you are the youngest Hogwarts player in a long time." Harry felt it endearing that Viktor remembered this tidbit of information.

With that, they shifted around awkwardly on the broom. Harry was now in control of the broom and felt enamored with it, almost as if it was more than a prized possession. He felt honoured that Viktor Krum had rode it and was now letting Harry take him on a journey. Harry felt Viktor's arms wrap around his middle and he let out a nervous sort of chuckle.

"I definitely don't fly as fast as you do, so you don't really need to do that." said Harry, awkwardly.  
"It is better to be safe than sorry, my friend. I learned that a lot practicing." replied Viktor, knowledgably.  
"If you say so then. I'm about to start."

And with a bang, they zoomed off. Harry was focused mainly on flying but the man behind him holding onto him for what he speculated was dear life was confusing. It felt good, but in a weird way. He wasn't exactly sure how to describe the sensation that spread across his body as he carried Krum on the back of his broomstick.

It had began to rain. Harry loosened the grip of his broom with one hand and felt the rain dampen his hair. It then sparked Harry's curiosity. "Hey Viktor, what about your fur coat?" Viktor looked up, seemingly concentrating on something else. "Ah. I will pick it up soon. Do not fly back there just to get that. I think you should get some sleep. I do not have lessons while you do. I will live without it."

Harry felt a little bad about not going to get the Durmstrang coat, but he was glad he didn't have to exactly prolong this flight. It was true, he did have lessons tomorrow and a ton of homework he still needed to do. Besides, Hermione was probably in tatters wondering where he had got to, especially since they had been out here for what seemed like ages. Harry even noticed that far off, some lights in the castle were gone and the sky was pitch black now. He knew he couldn't afford to prolong getting back any longer.

Within a few minutes, Harry had arrived at the stone circle that was seeable immediately upon exiting the long, winding bridge that connected the hill to Hogwarts castle. Harry could just barely make out the giant ship of Durmstrang a little bit away. Harry aimed in towards the gangway that let people in and out of the ship with ease.

After a swift and cool dive, the pair of them hovered above the ground. Viktor got off with ease and he walked forward to the gangway, turning around to look at Harry, with a smile on his face. "Harry, thank you for the fun night. I hope we can meet again soon. You can either find me in your school library or in the barracks of this ship. I hope it isn't too long before we see again soon." Harry nodded in agreement, agreeing with the sentiment.

"And…" spoke Viktor, before going quiet. Harry didn't say anything but he heard Viktor speak in his mother tongue again. "Mnogo si sladŭk. Goodnight, Harry."

Harry was unsure of what he had said, but he was grateful all the same. "Goodnight."

And with that, Harry flew off towards the castle, his body writhing in adrenaline after the night's fun events. No matter what, no one would know about this. This was for him, and him only. Not even Sirius would know about this. He didn't want anyone to ruin this night for him.

He also didn't want to think about the thoughts and feelings that arose in him during the night - but, in the nooks and crannies of his mind, his subconscious knew he would have to confront the feelings. One day, however.

That was not today.


	4. Castle's Clasp

A week had passed since Viktor's tête-à-tête with Harry Potter. Much to Viktor's discontent, Harry had not come near him in the following week. He surmised that he must have done something that night to upset him, but for some reason, he didn't feel like venturing out to find out why Harry had been so avoidant of him. He spent most of his time these days sitting in the back of the Hogwarts library and sleeping in his private quarters in the Durmstrang ship.

He was quite bored, actually. No school work had been arranged for the students while they spent the year at Hogwarts. For his classmates that had also tried their chance at the Triwizard Tournament, they just sat around doing, well, nothing. Viktor wasn't pleased at this. He preferred to stay vigorous and fervently outgoing - he had been brought up this way, so he supposed that this reaction to the other's taking a natural 'lax' to the fact they now have a year to do whatever they wished.

Sometimes, he wished he was one of them, though. Right out of the gate as him being picked as Durmstrang's champion, he had already began to loathe being Igor Karkaroff's 'number one boy'. It was clear to everyone that Karkaroff clearly favoured Krum, even before becoming Durmstang champion, due to him being a renowned quidditch player. Krum sometimes felt weighed down by the pressure that his headmaster placed upon his shoulders. Knowingly or unknowingly, Viktor never knew. After his first encounter with Harry Potter, once he got back to the ship, Karkaroff was adamant to let Viktor know that he would find out absolutely everything he could to help ensure Viktor was the sole winner and to make sure that he was the one to present to the wizarding world that Dumbledore can be one-upped.

Viktor had noticed that in his time, very few people came into the library. The people who did, however, seemed to come every day, multiple times a day. One person, in particular, was a girl who looked similar in height to Harry Potter. She had large and bushy brown hair. She never talked, and he hadn't ever seen her come in with anyone else. This was natural, he supposed. Libraries are meant for reading in silence.

He was shocked to find she had never looked at him twice though. Most Hogwarts girls, and men, had seemingly idolized him and a large majority of the students would pester him as he made his way to the library everyday. Even groups of girls followed him in there and it became clear to him that each one felt that they were 'entitled' to an autograph from him, for whatever reason.

Admittedly, he liked the attention. He was glad he a model quidditch player. The question crossed his mind at times though - would anyone even give him a second glance if he wasn't who he was? It's a thought that lingered on his conscious at times, but he liked to shove it to the back - he's admired for a reason, he supposed. He should be happy for what he has achieved.

He just wished Harry would come near him soon. Even though they had known for such little time, he missed him.

Harry was sitting in a History of Magic, dazed and daydreaming. A vivid imagination came into his mind of Dudley being unable to be lifted by the Wingardium Leviosa spell, so Mad-Eye Moody had conjured a crane to lift him. Harry was sat, watching it all from a few feet away. He didn't question why exactly this was happening. Mad-Eye Moody had never even encountered Dudley before in his life, so as to why he was doing was unbeknownst to Harry.

He wondered where Dudley was being lifted to as the crane didn't stop going up, and up, and up…

WHACK.

"Harry!" Hermione grunted under her breath. Harry was awoke with a snore and saw that Hermione was staring round at him, prodding him with a small hand of hers. He quickly figured out that this wasn't a kind gesture, however. It was clear that the prod was soon going to turn into a shove. He sat up in his seat.

"What happened?" Harry was confused. He didn't even know what class he was in. He looked towards the front and saw the ghost of Professor Binns scribbling away on the board, talking aimlessly to the class Harry was sure he hadn't looked at even once during the lesson. He was at least happy it wasn't in a class like Potions, where Snape would have pranced at the opportunity to take away house points from Gryffindor and give him a multitude of detentions.

"You're asleep in the middle of class! It's so disrespectful to Professor Binns!" Hermione crossed her arms furiously and went back to jotting down notes as she muttered under her breath, "Absolutely unbelievable, now I'm behind by a minute on my notes on the discovery of Grindylows…"

Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione's dilemma. Any exam they had ever taken in Hogwarts, Hermione was always at the top of every class and he was sure missing a minute of what Professor Binns was saying wouldn't hurt her in the long run. In fact, it'd probably help her. Harry just always assumed Hermione had a billion and a half books crammed inside her brain she could easily access whenever she liked.

That was only a joke, of course. Harry admired the intelligence of Hermione.

"How long until this class is over, Hermione…?" Harry yawned, glancing around the room for a clock, not taking into account that this classroom would probably be the last place on earth he'd check for anything technological if he hadn't just awoke from his slumber. He also forgot that he had a perfectly fine watch on his wrist at all times.

"It'll be done in five minutes, Harry. You'd know that if you didn't sleep throughout this entire lesson, wouldn't you?" she said, in a snarky tone. Harry huffed under his breath, thinking she was a bit unreasonable now.

Harry hadn't got much peace lately.

Once being announced as a fourth champion for the Triwizard Tournament, his reputation in the school shot up with some and crashed to the depths of to the earth with some others. He wasn't sure why this had happened. He'd tell anyone who'd listen that he didn't submit his name and didn't want to compete in the tournament to begin with.

He couldn't walk in between classes without someone hollering at him, whether it was a compliment or insult, he didn't care. To be truthful, the thing that hurt the most was the fact that he didn't even have his own best friend, Ron Weasley, in his corner anymore. Harry had attempted to tell Ron again that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, but it was to no avail. Ron simply didn't want to hear.

Harry glanced about the classroom and saw Ron with his head down in a book, near the front, far away from both Hermione and himself. Harry gritted his teeth, resisting an urge to go over and smack him around the head for being so stupid and not believing Harry when Harry would never lie to him about something like this. Harry would have believed Ron if it had happened to him. Harry didn't ask for these things to happen to him, they just did and Harry felt Ron's jealousy wasn't valid. Didn't he think Harry wanted to lead a normal school life?

Not all attention is good attention, thought Harry. This was exactly one of those times. His school life, being the only real life he had since his repugnant life with the Dursley's, had always been bridled with undesired attention. People assumed Harry wanted all this, but that couldn't be further from the truth - aching pains in his scar, nightmares related to Voldemort, having no mum or dad - it wasn't a fun life. Harry wanted people to try and live in his shoes for one day. He could tell they wouldn't make it, or like it.

The bell rang, issuing out the ending of the class.

Harry got up from his seat, catching Professor Binns from the side of his eye slipping through the wall his whiteboard sat on. He was most likely heading toward the staff room. He wondered if this made him happy - not passing on to wherever you go after your life ends, just to teach uninterested students and lounge about the staff room.

That wasn't really Harry's business, though.

He was among the first people to leave the class. He hadn't even waited for Hermione. The anger that had brewed up inside him was really getting to him and he wanted to shake some sense into Ron, but he was adamant now in waiting for Ron to talk to him. Harry hadn't done anything wrong - he reminded himself, he didn't ask for this and it was insensitive of Ron to think he wanted something like this.

Of course, he had visions of seeing himself holding the trophy, showing the validation that he had rightfully won the tournament. Those, of course, were only visions - not reality. Even now, that he was entered into this tournament, it was still only a vision. He was up against some of the toughest wizards he knew.

This reminded him, though. He hadn't seen Viktor in a week.

For some reason, after the events of their night in the grounds together, something bubbled inside Harry. He couldn't quite put his finger on what he felt - confused was what sprang to mind. He wouldn't be entirely truthful if he didn't admit to the fact that he was jealous of Viktor - people only sang his praises, and that was because he was a famous quidditch player. In a way, he supposed he was taking out his inner demons on Viktor.

As Harry made his way down the grand staircase, he stopped on the second floor and opened the wooden doors, entering into the floor, but not before taking a few glances behind him as to make sure no one could see what he was up to. He didn't know why he felt the need to take these precautions as he wasn't sure anyone else knew about Viktor being in the library apart from himself and regular library goers, which were few and far between.

He slipped into the corridor and looked at the brass doors to his right and left. Down one corridor to the right, he saw the entrance to the out of order Girls Bathrooms that was haunted by Moaning Myrtle, a girl murdered in the toilets fifty two years ago. Harry could recall saying he'd visit her more after his second year in which he, Ron and Hermione had made an arduous and difficult potion named the Polyjuice Potion. He hadn't done that though. He made a mental note to say hi sometime, but forgot within minutes as he came face to face with the entrance to the library.

He walked in through the entrance and ambled towards the back of the library, where he had met Viktor just a week ago. To his delight, he found Viktor pressed over a table, reading a book Harry couldn't tell the contents of.

Harry edged his way over to Viktor and found that he was quite confused. Harry wouldn't say he was a shy type, but for some reason, his typical way with words and how to convey them left him as he looked at Viktor a slight bit away in the library, recognising that Viktor still hadn't noticed he was there in the room with him.

He cracked his fingers and walked over to him and waved his hand awkwardly, saying with a rather lacking in confidence tone in his voice, "Hey, Viktor. Sorry I haven't been near you in awhile… school stuff. Y'know?"

Viktor glanced up immediately and he beamed. He stood up and threw out his right hand, gesturing for Harry to shake it. "Harry! I have been wondering where you have been hiding. Just joking, of course." a sly grin couldn't help but purse itself on his lips and Harry felt the affection spread to his own features also.

"Yeah, hiding is definitely what I'd say to describe what I've been doing as well." Harry didn't quite meet Viktor's glance as he said this. Viktor furrowed his brow and spoke in a casual tone, "Why would you need to be hiding? Is something going wrong in your classes?"

Harry contemplated his answer for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should be honest with Viktor or just lie and say he was fine. He had only known him for a little over a week, but the fact was, with the exception of Hermione, he was probably the person being most kind to him right now. Harry decided to dip into edging out Viktor's sympathy.

"Just people mocking me for being a champion. Even my own best friend won't talk to me now. He doesn't believe me when I tell him I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire. Barely anyone does. It's frustrating." Harry balled his hands into fists and kept his head down towards the floor.

Viktor didn't reply immediately. He twiddled his thumbs for a little bit before speaking in a slow, mellow tone, "Ah, but there words matter, none, you see? Those who do not believe you, are they really your friends? It is an honour to be a champion and if it was truly illegal for you to play in the tournament, your professor would have forcefully removed you. He did not, no?"

Harry perked up slightly, "No, I suppose Dumbledore didn't."

"Exactly. That must mean he has confidence in you. So you should have confidence in yourself. I do not know about your life at Hogwarts, but if there's any way I can assist, please do not hesitate to ask me." Viktor laughed heartily, giving Harry a firm pat on the back.

Then, he suddenly said, "Oh, also. If you see Professor Karkaroff, our headmaster of Durmstrang, do not make him aware of our friendship. I don't think he would be too approving of it. He is not a fan of Dumbledore or his students, you see."

"Oh, really?" Said Harry, trying to look shocked. Although, he could feel this aura radiate from Karkaroff from the few moments he had been around him. He seemed to levitate a great air of negative energy. Harry definitely had felt the energy be sucked out of the trophy room when the attention had turned to Karkaroff and his disdain for Harry's participation in the tournament. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I don't think your headmaster and I see eye to eye on a lot of things as it is."

Harry noticed Viktor refused to comment on the matter. He didn't fault him for this - he supposed he didn't want to talk bad about his headmaster. Harry couldn't help but verify in his mind though, that if Viktor talked bad about Dumbledore, it wouldn't please Harry at all.

A sudden idea sparked in Harry's mind

"Hey, Viktor. I don't suppose you'd let me take you up on your offer now, would you?"

Viktor glanced at Harry and said, "What is it you're looking for me to do?"

"Walk around the school with me. When I go to my classes, I mean. People would act different if they saw you around me. It'd be a nice change from what I've went through this week." said Harry, a small huff in his voice.

"Alright. I don't mind. I'd like to explore this castle anyway. It is very big, much larger than Durmstrang. I can assume it has many secrets inside its walls." A small blush took place on Viktor's cheeks, "Maybe you didn't expect it, but I really love exploring. It's why I first became enamoured with a broom. I wanted to explore the world on one."

Harry was surprised at this sudden revelation - it was rather innocuous, and not something he expected of Viktor. Every time they talked, Harry got a little more surprised at how lighthearted Viktor was - he certainly didn't look lighthearted, but maybe this was better as it made Harry have a good peace of mind getting to know him more.

"Yeah, LOADS of secrets. I don't mind showing you around now, if you want. You can lead the way and I'll tell you if there's anywhere we shouldn't go while you explore, I guess." This was certainly different than what Harry had envisioned Viktor Krum to be like as he watched him do the most insane and innovative tricks on a broom at the Quidditch World Cup. Harry wasn't complaining, though.

He liked this vulnerable side of Viktor. He was glad he wasn't afraid to show who he truly was.

"How about we start from top to bottom, Harry? Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine, we'll be starting on the seventh floor then. Let's go."

The two walked out of the library walking side by side, rather quiet as they made their way up the Grand Staircase. It was completely deserted, just like it had been when he had left History of Magic. He didn't mind though. He enjoyed the time with Viktor now.

After a couple of minutes, the duo entered into the corridor of the sixth floor and navigated the steps to the seventh floor. However, before they were able to do any exploring, Harry gritted his teeth and groaned internally as he saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle come down from the North Wing.

"Well look who it is, Gryffindor's little champion. Who's this with you, then? A member of your fanclub?"

Malfoy hadn't quite registered the fact standing beside him, now clutching the wand in the side of his trousers, was none other than Viktor Krum. When he did realise he moved backwards a little, behind Crabbe and Goyle. A muffled whisper could barely be heard between the three, however it wasn't distinct. Harry didn't move or do anything.

"You're lucky you're there with the big Bulgarian boy, Potter. If you weren't, I'd show you what we do to Triwizard champions of Gryffindor… let's go boys." and with that, the trio stalked away, making sure to speed up quickly as they passed by Viktor as he had his wand out and seemed completely ready to strike if they put a toe out of line.

"Basically, that's how my week has been going." sighed Harry.

"Very nasty little men. Do not worry, as long as I am here, no one will touch you."

"That's... you don't know how much I appreciate you, Viktor. You've been the nicest person to me ever since this whole thing happened. Thanks, I guess."

Harry flushed red, feeling the emotions he felt last week after they said goodbye all over again. He had time to think about these feelings - and maybe he'd confront them now.

"Viktor?" said Harry.

"Yes, Harry?" replied Viktor.

"There's something I have to ask... just, don't get mad if you don't like what I'm going to say."

"Go ahead, Harry. You know I don't judge. I'm not like some of the vermin that prowl your corridors." he shot nastily, glancing towards the door the Slytherin trio had left through.

"Do you feel the same way I do?"

"Harry..."

BANG.

/ A/N: Hi there! I would very much appreciate any and all reviews left on this work, as it motivates me to continue this series.. Apologies for the delay between the chapters. Also, for the curious, I am crossposting this fic to AO3. Have a lovely day.


	5. The Roses that Blossom

A sound that surely resounded throughout not only the entire school, but for miles, came crashing down the North Wing. A knight completely covered in silver armour came tumbling down the stairs, completely stiff and landing upon its metallic face.

However, once the noise of all the armour crashing and bumping into the floor was over, Harry was able to distinctly make out a muffled sob that seemed to be coming from inside the armour. Harry bolted over to the suit of armour and slipped off the knight's head and to his surprise, he found Neville's head to be underneath it.

"Harry! Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle… they cornered me after Charms and used Petrificus Totalus and trapped me inside this on the top of North Tower and I was trying to get out of the suit and well… you know the rest." Neville spoke with a dejected tone in his voice. Harry noticed that a few teardrops were beginning to form in the corner of Neville's eyes. He felt furious at Malfoy for doing this.

"Viktor! Help Neville out of this suit, I'm going to find Malfoy. Wait here. Neville, once you're out of that, go and see, uh…" Harry wondered if it was really the best course of action to leave Neville when he was clearly in such a traumatised and scared state. Even though he inwardly wanted to exact revenge on Malfoy for doing this to Neville, Harry could get his revenge later. Focusing on making sure Neville was at least okay first was the utmost priority.

Viktor spoke, a little surprised. "If you say so, Harry," and he moved over to the armour that encased Neville's body and began breaking apart the parts of the armour. Harry walked back over to Neville and spoke to him while Viktor removed the armour covering Neville's torso, allowing him to sit up.

"I'll get him back for this later, Neville. Just, once Viktor gets you out of that, go to the Hospital Wing if you're hurt. Then-..."

Harry was abruptly interrupted. He looked behind him and saw none other than the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as they always did behind the moonlit glasses he always adorned.

"Professor Dumbledore sir!" Spoke Harry, attentively. He wasn't sure what Dumbledore would say. Harry had always felt like Dumbledore could see deeper to any situation laid out in front of him, this being one.

"Harry! How wonderful to see you. I see Mr. Krum is also with you! Zdraveĭte, Viktor!"

"Zdraveĭte, professor." Mumbled Viktor. Harry could Viktor was in shock at being introduced by Dumbledore this way."

"I just happened to be in the vicinity and I was wondering what all the noise was, so I decided to come investigate at my own perusal. It seems Mr. Longbottom has gotten himself into quite the pickle - let me help out."

And with a rather nonchalant flick of his wand, the armour came out from every angle and Neville was freed from the armour in seconds. With another gentle flick, the knight began to reform itself and was completely mended within a matter of seconds. Then, it could be seen floating back up the stairway, presumably returning to wherever the knight originally stood.

"Now what was it I heard about Mr. Malfoy whilst I arrived here?" piqued Dumbledore's curiosity.

"Malfoy stunned me after class and him, Crabbe and Goyle all brought me up here and trapped me inside the knight and-..."

"I see," spoke Dumbledore aloud. "Well, that will just not do. I will need to inform Professor Snape of his actions. If you don't mind, Neville, could you do me the honour of accompanying me whilst I reported this act of aggression to Professor Snape. I assure you, you will be completely fine."

Neville turned to look at Harry, almost imploringly. He seemed to want Harry to answer for him. Harry gave him a swift nod to indicate that the best course of action was to go with Dumbledore. Neville stood up and Harry noticed his legs were quite unsteady as he paced over to Dumbledore.

He glanced around at Harry and Viktor, "Thanks, you two.." and he slunk off at Dumbledore's side, his body visibly jittering beside Dumbledore's. Within seconds, they were both gone. Harry turned to Viktor.

"Hey, Viktor. Thanks."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"For helping my friend out. It's just really nice of you, especially since he's one of the only few people still being friends with me."

Viktor aimed a soft smile at Harry and spoke in a chivalrous tone, "You do not need to thank me, Harry. I am happy to assist you and your friends when you are in trouble. Even if they think it odd that we are talking, considering we go to different schools. I think the most surprising thing to me was your headmaster's acknowledgement. He is a very kind man, Dumbledore. Professor Karkaroff does not seem to share my sentiments, however."

Harry felt a warm flush in his cheeks as Viktor complimented Dumbledore. He didn't know why, but perhaps he was similar to Hagrid, in the regards that an insult onto Dumbledore was an insult onto him. "Yeah, Dumbledore is an amazing wizard. I'm happy you like him. Shame about your headmaster, though." Harry said this in a rather unconvincingly apologetic tone. Truth be told, he didn't care much for Karkaroff's opinion as even though Harry barely knew the man, he sensed a bad aura.

Viktor then spoke up, changing the subject. "So, our initial plan before we got interrupted by others…" Harry remembered in a jolt. He was meant to be showing Viktor the ins and outs of Hogwarts. After everything that had just happened, he had completely forgotten. He gazed up at the taller boy and said, "Oh, yeah. You're right, let's get back to what we were doing then," and he took a few steps forward but yet again, they were interrupted. This time, by Hermione.

She came pelting towards Harry and spoke in a rather flighty tone, "Harry! I've been wondering where you went off to since History of Magic ended. I heard the noise and - who's this?" She looked up at Viktor. Harry could tell by the expression on her face that she instantly recognised who Harry had been talking to. "Oh, have I interrupted something? I didn't realise,"

Before Harry could speak however, Viktor replied to her first. "You are the girl that I always see in the library. I did not know she was your friend, Harry. It is nice to make your acquaintance." He threw out a hand, gesturing for Hermione to shake. Somewhat awkwardly, Hermione shook Viktor's hand and seemingly became a lot more like her calm and sophisticated self.

"Well, you are right you do see me a lot in the library. It's quite mutual, actually. I also see your fan club who follow you into the library and it's quite apparent they don't understand what a library is meant for, clearly." She side eyed Viktor in a cool fashion and Viktor placed one hand at the back of his head, rubbing it and saying in a rather nonchalant laugh, "Well, I am sorry for that. I often tell the girls to leave."

Hermione didn't speak more on the subject, but judging by how the two were both smiling he was thankful that both of them hit it off well. "Anyway, Hermione, what was it you were looking me for?" he spoke in an inquiring tone.

"Oh! You left your book in class," she said, turning around and quickly unzipping her bag, taking out a copy of 'A History of Magic' by Bathilda Bagshot and placing it in hands. "Don't be so forgetful next time. I almost missed it too!" Harry murmured under his breath, "Thanks, Hermione." and threw it into his bag avoiding Hermione's gaze. He scoffed a little - he was a slight bit embarrassed being chastised by her right in front of Viktor Krum. To his delight though, Viktor didn't seem to mind much. He was chuckling.

Then he spoke, "Well, Harry, I think I should head back to my ship actually. Professor Karkaroff hasn't seen me at all today and he will be wondering where I have went off to." Harry replied, "Oh, alright. Do you want me to come with you or…?" but he was interrupted by Viktor's shaking hand, stammering, "Oh, no, it will be quite alright. You stay with your friend, Hermione." Harry noticed that as he said this, he had a certain difficulty pronouncing her name. To Harry, it sounded like he had said 'Her-mo-ninnie-'. He chuckled and waved goodbye, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Good! I hope it's not another week again before we see each other." said Viktor. To Harry's surprise, he followed this up with a wink and a small wave and was ambling down the corridor, surely navigating his way back to the Grand Staircase.

Hermione and Harry stood in silence for a few seconds before Harry spoke in a bright tone, "Well, let's just go back to the common room, then." Harry was about to move but he noticed Hermione still looked rather frozen in place. "What's up?" he inquired.

"Oh, Harry, come on! How can you be so oblivious?" She shook her head in disdain. "When were you planning on telling me that you had became friends with Viktor Krum? Also, why did he wink at you? What were you both doing up here? Did you two create that noise? I'm surprised I've only found you two up here. Quite strange no one else came up,"

Harry explained to her about the situation with Neville and Malfoy's gang, and the arrival of Dumbledore. He also accounted for his and Viktor's blossoming friendship and he had simply told her he hadn't told her because it hadn't crossed his mind of telling her. Which was partially true - Harry didn't ask Hermione for every little thing she did when she wasn't around him.

Though, he supposed becoming friends with one of the most famous wizards currently wasn't something you could simply forget to mention. He wasn't going to say anything if Hermione wasn't, though.

The two of them headed to the common room, and time seemed to have passed rather fast today. Harry knew with winter approaching, the nights would rapidly get darker but he felt like he had not done anything today and was surprised to find he was already in bed with the curtains drawn round to hide him from view and it was pitch black out. He hadn't seen Ron come to the dormitory yet, nor had he heard him.

He poked his head out of the curtains and noticed to his right that the curtains around Ron's bed was drawn. He shook his head dismissively and sat on his own bed, both of his hands resting at the back of his head. Something had been bothering him today, but not the absence of Ron in his day to day life. Sure, he missed Ron, but he wasn't crying wolf over it, because he knew he was in the right, and Ron wasn't. He would wait until Ron was ready to apologise.

No, the thing that mystified Harry was the fact he missed Viktor. For some reason, the fact Viktor had departed for the Durmstrang ship early was a little saddening. He was genuinely excited to explore Hogwarts with him. He didn't know why he felt this way - he wasn't this excited back when he initially came in his first year, but the prospect of uncovering unfamiliar areas in Hogwarts with Viktor was what enticed him.

"With Viktor," he spoke under his breath.

He didn't want anyone to hear him. Not when he felt this confused. He wasn't sure if confusion was the emotion. He felt a lot of things. Feelings that were foreign to his mind. In the midst of it all, one thing was a constant in his mind - his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, saying "Love," and that was all. This made him feel even more perplexed by what was going on.

He tried to shake what was happening off, and laid his head to rest and within minutes, fell into a deep sleep.

Vikor was pacing the cabin he called his own. There was a fire that was alight due to magic, the gentle patter of rain against the ship was slightly soothing to his ears. He had reported to Karkaroff earlier and as per usual, had been questioned about what he had been doing that day. His usual reply was to tell him he was studying and the headmaster of Durmstrang would no longer investigate into the matter.

He felt alone. He knew he technically was alone, as he was isolated in his cabin, but it extended beyond that. He had been feeling this way ever since he had got back from the castle. Without Harry. He had decided to leave because he was scared. Not because of Harry, or even his hot headed friend Hermione, but of himself.

Viktor was scared of the fact that he was acquiring romantic feelings. Feelings that were for someone not only younger than him, but surely not going to be reciprocated. He didn't know why he felt such a connection with the young boy. Perhaps it was his unwavering kindness towards him. He tried to justify inwardly that everyone in Hogwarts had been kind to him so far, but it felt different with Harry.

Perhaps it was the fact that, as a homosexual man, his sexuality was something uncommon amongst most wizards and he'd be afraid of his secret ever getting out, but something inside him just drew him to enjoy Harry and his presence. Something about him was so satisfying for the young Bulgarian. Not only was he a pleasurable person to talk to, but he'd be lying if he said Harry wasn't good looking for his age. He made an inward joke about understanding why the Goblet of Fire had confusion when it came to recognising him, but once he thought about it more, it didn't make sense. He laughed awkwardly.

He had only spoken to Harry on three separate occasions, and yet he already felt this strongly for him. He realised he also had to spend the entire year school with him, and he was sure that his lust for Harry's affection and approval would become stronger, tenfold. He was befuddled on what to do. Somewhere, deep inside him, he wanted to tell Harry how he felt. He had once pursued a boy back in Durmstrang, and he regretted deeply never speaking up then, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

He walked steadily over to the mirror where he could look at his full frame and spoke aloud, as if he was actually talking to Harry Potter himself.

"Harry Potter. Obicham te."

The only problem was - how much harder would it be to say that in English?

Viktor carefully took his clothes off, folding them neatly and placing them on a desk. He was left in just boxers and socks and had went back to the mirror and admired his body for a tiny bit - he was attractive to boot, and a tough, masculine man and one of the biggest names in the Wizarding World currently, yet he was too scared to tell someone he had a crush on them.

He gathered his thoughts and climbed into bed, making a quiet vow before falling straight to asleep.

"I will tell him. I will."

Harry hadn't even bothered attending class today. He had woken up rather late and no one was to be seen in the boys dormitory. He had made his way downstairs and to his surprise, the only other people he found were students that were far older than him and were most likely in their last years of Hogwarts. He brushed this off and walked out of the Fat Lady's portrait, not sure of where to go.

Due to the abuse he'd been receiving by people in the school lately, he wanted to just take some time for himself. Subconsciously he found himself making his way down the various floors before stopping a few steps away from the library that was hidden from view by great, tall oak doors. He pondered if Viktor would be in there and he walked briskly towards it. He had nothing to lose just by checking.

He slipped in and like always, it was dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Madam Pince was sitting at a desk near the entrance and she gave him a piercing and also surveying look. He walked past her awkwardly, not knowing if she would pop off at him for simply existing like she usually did with everyone that entered the library.

He proceeded towards the back of the library, knowing it was where he could usually find Viktor residing. To his astonishment however, Viktor was nowhere to be found. In fact, there was no trace at all that anyone had been there today. He scratched his chin curiously, pondering as to where he could be. "No point sticking around if he isn't here," he thought.

With swift steps he made his way back down the long library hall and slipped out of the doors, noticing that Madam Pince was still sitting there, watching over the few other students that were also in the library. She questioned if he was taking any books out of the library and once it was apparent he wasn't, she let him go without another word.

He continued to make his way down to the Entrance Hall when he noticed something or rather, someone, had came bursting out of the doorway that led to the Grand Staircase. As they bombarded up the stairs Harry could just barely make out that it was Hermione who was advancing up the stairs with no apparent care. She seemed to be rushing for something.

"Hermione, what the…" but before he could finish the sentence, Hermione had whirled around and just noticed that she had ran past her own best friend and she ran right back to him, seemingly clutching a stitch in her chest and her breathing heavy, going in rapid succession. Harry was about to ask what was going on, but it seemed she had already got there before him in informing him.

"Harry! You have to… go down… quidditch pitch… Viktor Krum… is looking you." All of this was very drawn out by Hermione's rasping breaths, her hand gripping tightly onto Harry's arm for support. Harry wasn't sure of what to say, so he said the first thing that sprang to mind. "Aren't we supposed to be in class right now, Hermione? Are you going there?"

However, he never got a reply to this question. He noticed Hermione had began lightly pushing him down the staircase and he seemed to get the gesture of: go meet Viktor. He spoke, "Alright, alright, I'm going! Where should I meet you when I come back?" Hermione spluttered out a response as she heaved her body up the marble staircase. "Gryffindor… common room!" Harry waved goodbye, although he wasn't sure Hermione saw it as she was blazing up the stairs, surely in pursuit to be in some class.

As Harry made his way into the Entrance Hall, he wondered why Hermione, of all people, had been talking to Viktor Krum and was now informing him to go meet him at the quidditch pitch. What was so special about the occasion that Viktor couldn't have met him himself at the library and why did he feel the need to tell Hermione about the occasion. How did the two of them even meet to talk about this?

Harry was completely confused as he walked over the threshold, ambling down to the quidditch pitch. He could hear the faint buzz of chatter from the greenhouses as people were surely having lessons in there. He had also glanced at Hagrid's hut, and to his surprise, found that he wasn't there. No lights were on inside the house, which suggested Hagrid wasn't there. Harry wondered what Hagrid had gotten up to, but he'd have to find out some other time.

He neared the quidditch pitch and decided to go into the changing rooms in which he had brought Viktor the first time they did something together outside of the castle. He opened the doors that held the changing rooms inside and to his delight, he found Viktor, standing inside, yet he was turned to face a locker that was the exact opposite of the door holding the entrance to the changing rooms. One hand was not visible

"Viktor…?"

Viktor suddenly straightened himself up and spoke in a more serious tone than usual. He didn't turn around to face the other boy, however.

"Harry. I'm glad you came. I will have to thank your friend for telling you to come so quickly. I was worried you would not have came.. But, let's forget about that and move onto the next thing I want to say. Harry… I'm very happy we have became friends in the short time I have been here. There is still a long way to go, and I am happy we can be friends. You have been so nice to me and I am, well," he let out a nervous chuckle and turned around. To Harry's bewilderment, Harry could plainly see the boy was wearing clothes that complimented the muscles all over his body, his abs poking out.

The most noticeable thing, however, was the fact Harry could see Viktor's hand now. He also saw Viktor was now moving towards him, holding the rouse lustfully in his mouth. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but his brain reacted and told him not to move. He was giddy.

Viktor gently moved Harry against one of the lockers used for the various players. When the two were so closely pressed together like this, it was profoundly noticeable that Viktor and Harry were much different in height. Something about this fact made this foreign encounter to Harry even more enticing. He looked up at the boy, the rose in his mouth now hanging over his head in Viktor's mouth.

With one large hand, Viktor removed the rose from his mouth and set it in between the two, their bodies holding it up. Harry then gasped out of shock as he felt something touch the top of his head. It didn't take a genius to work out the fact that Viktor had just planted a kiss atop his head. His breathing was steady. He felt slightly nervous, but wasn't apprehensive to this contact.

Viktor lifted his head and smiled a deep, caring smile at Harry. Harry returned the smile and as if he was inviting Viktor to his lips, he obliged and the two boys lips had met and feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for a short while now were blossoming in the meeting of the two boys lips.

Harry felt completely at peace as the two locked lips. He had never kissed before and was entirely new, but he felt Viktor guiding and making himself at home as the two locked lips. The swapping of saliva had occurred and Viktor was exploring Harry's mouth with his tongue. The two's tongues had touched, and Harry felt as if he wanted to laugh at this interaction.

Even though the kiss felt like forever, the two seemingly parted as soon as it started. Harry looked up at Viktor, his glasses slightly askew.

Viktor spoke in that tantalising voice.

"Harry…"

"I love you."


End file.
